


Each Unhappy Family

by monchy



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:50:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monchy/pseuds/monchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being Human!AU. Sebastian is a werewolf, Kurt is a vampire and Rachel is a ghost. Together, they are sort of like a family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

 

            Rachel, at her most dramatic, would always insist that it was the winds of destiny that had brought them together. On an optimistic night, Kurt might even be inclined to ride the crazy train and believe in her words. Sebastian, though, had always known that there was nothing even close to destiny in what they had. All there had been, all he would always remember, was a bright moonlit night and a boy named Kyle.

            He was sixteen at the time, horny and determined to get into his chosen boy’s pants. (“Nothing has changed but the age, then?” Kurt would joke whenever Sebastian told the story.) The chosen boy in question was Kyle, a blonde jock with a pretty ass who was convinced his macho act was fooling everyone, and whom Sebastian had assured that no one would suspect a thing if they only scurried away for a few minutes into the woods.

            The camping trip had been the school’s idea, and even if spending a couple of nights sleeping in a cold, uncomfortable tent was number one in Sebastian’s least favorite activities list, he knew a chance when he saw one. He’d motioned for Kyle to follow him into the woods with a simple move of his head, and had seen him stand up and almost trip with his own feet in his haste. Sebastian still remembered laughing when he’d started making his way through the trees.

 

            “Should we go this far away?” Kyle had asked, hand already reaching for Sebastian’s arm.

            “Relax, stud. It’s not like there’s any bears out here.”

 

            It had taken him mere minutes to have Kyle pressed up against a tree, his mouth hot and heavy under Sebastian’s. He could admit that his technique hadn’t been the best back then – having just recently discovered the joys of sex – but Kyle hadn’t seemed to mind. Quite the contrary, since the boy had responded perfectly to Sebastian’s prodding, letting him push a thigh between his own. Sebastian remembered his blood boiling, his nerve endings reacting to every single touch that, in his inexperience, had felt perfect.

 

            (“Oh, come on, you can’t possibly remember that much,” Kurt would always interrupt.

            “Hush,” Rachel would complain. “What happened then? Your storytelling is _so_ dramatic.”)

 

            Kyle had been the one to stop. His breathing had been heavy and ragged, the hot puffs of air coming from his parted lips falling against the skin of Sebastian’s neck. They had felt loud in the silent forest around them.

 

            “Did you hear that?” Kyle had asked.

            “What? I didn’t hear anything,” Sebastian had said. And he’d been so sure, too, that Kyle was being paranoid. “It’s probably some other couple.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “ _Yes_. Come on Kyle, don’t you wanna come?” Sebastian had followed his words with a push of his thigh, and had delightfully smiled at Kyle’s groan. “I wanna come.”

 

            So of course, as if he’d given the cue for a dramatic scene in a B-series movie, that had been when it had happened. He always made this part of his story as short as possible, not wanting to recount the pain, or the suddenness of it. He could hardly be asked to remember what being bitten by a wolf felt like, now could he? Be he _did_ remember. He remembered thinking that that was it, his life, over in sixteen short years with no real achievement. He remembered trying to scream, and the gurgles that had come out instead through the blood pooling in his mouth. And he remembered, more than anything, the sight of Kyle’s mauled body.

            He had walked away from the incident though, and it had taken a month for him to understand the consequences of it. Whatever the case, he was told to count himself lucky, and he guessed that was the right thing to say when no one knew that he had walked out a monster.

 

            (“We are _not_ monsters,” Kurt would protest, adamant, always willing to fight him in this affair. “We are just trying to survive.”)

           

            Monster or not, Sebastian doubted that it was part of destiny’s plan to have werewolves walking the Earth. It was hard to convince Rachel otherwise, though, even as she told her own story, of the fall down the stairs that she didn’t truly remember and that had ended her life prematurely. She had convinced herself that her turning into a ghost must have been a necessary thing, must have had an objective. Early in their relationship, she had decided that said objective was nothing but taking care of Kurt and Sebastian, since they were incapable of doing so by themselves, and too emotionally moronic to understand that all they had going for themselves was sticking together. Sebastian liked to roll his eyes at her, and to remind her that her destiny should have been becoming a great star, and not some kind of guardian angel.

 

            (“Well,” she would say then, “I understand when my efforts are not being appreciated.”

            Later, he would hear her crying on Kurt’s shoulder, lamenting the fact that she couldn’t even slam a door and have a proper tantrum.)

 

            Kurt, even when he chose to believe that some outside force had decided to bring them together, didn’t share his story. He said it was too old, too far away for him to remember correctly, but Sebastian thought that one hardly forgot the night that death became a beginning, rather than an ending. A part of Sebastian wanted to know everything, but so far he only had some puzzle pieces to work with, some grumbled mentions of vampire societies and someone named Blaine.

            Whatever the case, destiny or no destiny, there was no changing the fact that they were stuck together in a small apartment in New York City, trying to make something of what little life they were given.

 

            (“But if it’s not destiny,” Rachel would ask sometimes, “why would we be here together? I hardly think that a vampire, a werewolf and a ghost living under the same roof can be something other than some kind of prophecy. We should make a musical out of it,” she would squeal. “I would have to play myself, of course.”

            “Please, make her stop,” Kurt would whine.

            “Answer me, then,” she would prod. “Why are we stuck here together if not destiny?”

            “Because,” Sebastian would answer, “otherwise we’d be alone.”)

           


	2. Chapter 1

            It was early September and the weather was still warm. Kurt basked in the sun, even when it burnt a little on his too pale skin. He felt cold – he _always_ felt cold – so it was nice to let the sun reach what little skin his outfit was showing. People always looked at him during the summer, when he walked around the city covered in layers and wearing fingerless gloves, but at least he could pass his clothing habits as fashion choices.

 

            “Are you done staring into space, princess? There’s a gazillion boxes to carry and most of them are yours.”

 

            Kurt looked at Sebastian, his arms holding what looked like a heavy box, his features schooled into a frown.

 

            “You keep insisting I’m the girl in this relationship,” Kurt replied. “Therefore, _you_ get to do all the heavy lifting.”

 

            Sebastian snorted, sticking his tongue out at him before continuing a slow walk towards the apartment, heavy box still in his arms.

 

            “Really mature!” Kurt exclaimed behind him.

            “Well, if you two are almost ready,” said a voice next to Kurt, “I’ll just leave the keys with you and go.”

 

            Kurt turned to look at Jesse, their new landlord. He was looking half bored and half expectant, holding a set of keys Kurt’s way. Kurt took them and looked back at the apartment building where Sebastian had just gone into carrying one of the boxes.

            Their latest apartment, a little shoe box which only good attribute had been being in Manhattan, had sadly been sold to a couple of newlyweds just last month, forcing Kurt and Sebastian to look for a new place to stay in the city. They had almost lost their feet walking around in the search of a place that wasn’t infested by cockroaches, didn’t have a weird smell and had actual walls in it. Somehow, they had stumbled upon a bargain offered by the same man that had just given Kurt the keys: a fairly decent apartment in Soho at an entirely too cheap renting price.

 

            “Can I ask you something?” Kurt asked, turning back towards Jesse, who was combing his hair back in a gesture that brought to mind Danny Zuko. Kurt looked at him, tilting his head to the side, and pictured him starring in a _Grease_ revival.

            Jesse looked up, letting his hand fall back down. “Sure,” he shrugged.

            “Why is this place so cheap? Really. There _has_ to be something wrong with it. You can tell me, we’ve already paid the first three months.”

            Jesse’s hand went back to his hair almost immediately. “Look, I just want to rent it fast, alright? This place is filled with bad memories for me, and I can’t deal with the melancholia.” Jesse looked forward then, away from Kurt and to the horizon in a way that resembled a Greek character at his most tragic.

 

            _Huh,_ Kurt thought, _maybe not Grease, then. This guy was meant for drama._

            “Anyway,” Jesse shook his head. “Is it alright if I leave you two to it, then?”

            “Sure, of course.”

 

            Kurt waved goodbye awkwardly, looking back at the pile of suitcases that they still had left to carry into their new apartment. Sebastian had been exaggerating, of course; there was almost nothing left. With a tired roll of his shoulders, Kurt piled one of the smallest suitcases on top of the other, and a little unsteadily made his way inside the building, making sure there was nothing left behind on the street.

            During the elevator ride, he blinked his eyes several times, already regretting spending too much time out in the sun. No matter how much he reveled in the warmth, and how grateful he was that the whole burning in the sun thing wasn’t actually true, his eyes and skin were still sensitive to the light. And he was still cold.

            Before reaching the apartment, he heard a voice coming from inside it, and rolled his eyes at the idea that Sebastian had already managed to charm a neighbor into their house. Honestly, the man had been left alone for five minutes. He went through the open door, uncomfortably carrying three suitcases and ready to grumble at the excessive work, when he caught sight of Sebastian, still holding a box between his arms and staring at something in front of him with wide eyes. Said something was nothing but a girl their age clad in the most horrendous sweater Kurt had ever seen and ranting as if she were invisible.

 

            “–and I will make the walls bleed, I swear,” she was saying, her eyes crazy looking and her pointed finger a silent threat. “He can’t rent this place just like that. This was supposed to be _our_ place, the one we came back to when we were rich and famous and looked upon with deep nostalgia for the simpler days. I was going to win my first Tony while living here!” She stopped her rant, and Kurt flinched when she looked their way. Then, she kept going, “I will learn how to move things, and make noises and you two will be so scared by the time I’m done that you will never–”

            “Kurt,” Sebastian whispered, his mouth twisted and his eyes still fixated on the girl.

            “Yes, Bas?”

            “There’s a crazy girl in our apartment.”

            “I can see that.”

            “–and Barbra movies on constant replay on your TV, and–Wait, you can see me?”

            Kurt blinked her way, his mouth slightly parted in surprise at finally being acknowledged. “… Of course?” he answered, unsure what the right thing to say was.

            “Oh my God,” she said. “Oh my God.” The screech that followed was almost inhuman, and Kurt would have been worried for his eardrums had he not been more so about the girl jumping his way and putting her arms around his waist in an awkward hug.

            “Oh my God,” she said again. “You can touch me too!” There was a second squeal of joy, and when Kurt looked at Sebastian for help, he found him snickering, box still in his arms. Kurt scowled at him.

 

            Kurt looked down towards the girl, putting his hands on her shoulders and patting them gently. She was tiny, and she looked harmless enough, but one could never honestly tell, so Kurt was cautious when he pushed her away a little bit, enough to look into her dark, big eyes. He tried for a small, reassuring smile.

 

            “Why exactly shouldn’t we be able to see you?” Kurt asked. “Or touch you?”

            “Because I’m dead, of course,” she answered, as if Kurt was being obtuse.

            “Of course,” Sebastian parroted behind her. “How didn’t we see that one coming?”

 

            Kurt glared at him while the girl finally released him and took a couple of steps back. She cleared her throat, flipped her dark hair behind her shoulder and straightened her clothes, a plaid yellow skirt and a burgundy sweater with a white reindeer on it, both ugly to the point of being offensive.

 

            “I’m Rachel Berry,” she said, extending her hand towards Kurt. “I was going to be a Broadway star, but a tragic death at the age of twenty-two cut my dreams short. Obviously, my talent was not to be wasted, so I have been brought back as a ghost with some undetermined purpose as of yet. But a magnificent one, I bet.”

 

            Kurt was dumbfounded. He blinked once more her way, before finally managing a reaction and grabbing her hand in a soft shake.

 

            “Kurt Hummel,” he offered quietly. He thought that the girl – Rachel – could easily be mad, but then again, he wouldn’t be surprised if she were telling the truth. Hell, he was dead himself, if one were to get down to it.

            “And you’re haunting our apartment?” Sebastian asked from the other side of the room. He had finally put the box down, and now was taking the couple of steps that separated him from Kurt. He stood by his side, a warmth, solid presence.

            “ _My_ apartment!” Rachel protested.

            “That’s not what it says on the lease, Casper.”

 

            She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and kicking the floor. She looked like a five year old ready to throw a tantrum, and _of course_ , Sebastian would manage to piss off the ghost. Kurt elbowed him softly, sending another glare his way.

 

            “What?” he complained. “It’s true.” He turned Rachel’s way then, and he looked almost like a giant next to her, his tall frame dwarfing her shorter one. It didn’t seem to have any effect on Rachel, who stood her ground with a glare of her own.

 

            “Well, consider your apartment officially haunted, then,” she said.

            “ _Or_ , you could follow the light and get lost,” Sebastian countered, pushing her shoulder slightly with a couple of fingers. Rachel’s expression changed quickly, and then she was squealing again.

            “You can touch me, too!” she exclaimed.

            “Wait, don’t–“before Sebastian had finished, she was already wrapped around his waist, “– hug me.”

 

            Sebastian sighed, and this time Kurt was the one snickering. It was a funny picture, with her being so tiny and him so tall, and Kurt would have called them adorable if only he didn’t know that would earn him Sebastian’s wrath.

 

            “This girl isn’t a ghost,” Sebastian said. “She’s just crazy.” Still, he did nothing to push her away, and it was her who took a step back and looked up.

            “I am, I swear. You two are the first people who have seen me. Definitely the first two I’ve been able to touch.”

 

            Sebastian threw an exasperated look Kurt’s way, which then turned questioning. He might have been inclined to go with Sebastian’s theory, except that Rachel smelled of absolutely nothing. Everyone had a particular scent, even humans, supernatural creatures like Sebastian and himself even more so, but not Rachel.

 

            “So, uh…” Kurt started. “Did you die in the apartment?”

            “Not exactly,” she said, stepping away from Sebastian and walking to the still open door. “I was there, actually,” she pointed at the hallway.

            “The stairs?”

            “Yes,” she nodded, walking towards them and stopping at the edge. “I don’t really remember, but I heard Jesse telling my dads. I guess–I guess I just–”

 

Kurt heart sniffling coming from her, and his non-beating heart cried a little for her. He wanted to go to her and offer some comfort, but her eyes were firmly set on the stairs, as if they were a big old enemy.

 

“I don’t get it,” she continued. “How could I have been _that_ clumsy?” She made as if to take a step forward, and let one of her feet hang in the air.

 

Kurt wanted to stop her for some reason, but he didn’t. She finally placed her foot on the first step, and when she did, she looked their way and mouthed an _oh_ , before banishing into thin air. Kurt gasped, and looked back at Sebastian.

 

“So we have a ghost,” Sebastian said. “Fun.”

 

-o-o-o-o-

 

“I’m so done with this day,” Sebastian said, biting a sigh as he sat next to Kurt. He threw his head back on the chair, and closed his eyes.

 

Kurt was happy to ignore him and continue his work. Sewing hats – ugly, awful hats at that – had to be the most boring activity in the world, but the faster Kurt finished, the earlier he would go home.

Being a stagehand wasn’t a dream job, but it gave them both exactly what they needed: anonymity. Kurt had actually been working as one when he had met Sebastian a couple of years ago, and had already discovered that the job offered what he was looking for. It wasn’t easy for a vampire to move in the world, not when his real ID would show that he was 117 years old, and had no real formation of any kind. Kurt could sew, though, an art he’d mastered as second footman of a fancy house back in the day, when he’d been sixteen years old and still a human. Also, theaters were more than happy to hire cheap workers, and not ask too much about papers that looked maybe a little false.

Sometimes, Kurt even liked the job. If the show was nice enough, the clothes he’d get his hands on would be elegant and dreamy, rather than gaudy and awful like the hats he was currently working on. It also afforded him the easiness of not having to relate too much to other workers, since stagehands tended to move a lot from show to show, and sometimes from the city to city. He was rather comforted by the thought that most of his coworkers wouldn’t remember him in a couple months, and wouldn’t stay long enough to notice anything strange about him.

Sebastian hated it, Kurt knew. When they’d met, he’d been working as a waiter in a dive near Brooklyn, which Kurt supposed afforded the same kind of anonymity that their current occupation did. It hadn’t stopped a pair of vampires from locating him, though, or from deciding to have a little fun with _the little pup._ God, but Kurt hated his own kind sometimes. Or, scratch that, most of the time. Whatever the case, Sebastian was now a backstage worker like himself, pushing props around for many hours a day.

 

“So,” Sebastian said suddenly. Kurt looked at him and then at the clock hanging from the wall in front of him; Sebastian had managed almost ten minutes of silence, and that was a record for him.

“So?” Kurt prodded.

 

Sebastian turned his face Kurt’s way, and blinked his eyes open. They were bright green and had a downturn to them that actually made him look like a kicked puppy. Kurt kind of loved them, not that he’d ever admit it out loud.

 

“What are we going to do about our new roommate?”

Kurt shrugged, and turned his attention back towards his sewing. “I don’t know, it’s not like I’m an expert of the supernatural. I’ve never met a ghost before.”

“Maybe we could exorcise her or something.”

“Really, Bas?” Kurt looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

Sebastian grinned, betraying his own amusement with the whole situation. “Follow the light, Rachel, follow the light!” he intoned, hand pushed forward dramatically. “It might work.”

Kurt snorted. “I don’t see how. And before you suggest it, we’re _not_ bringing a priest into the house. Maybe we just need to help her cross over? Find out if there’s some unfinished business of some kind or…” Kurt trailed off, and then scowled at Sebastian when he noticed that he’d lost his attention.

 

Kurt followed Sebastian’s gaze, and spotted one of the latest additions to the show, a guy on his late twenties who laughed entirely too loud for Kurt’s taste, bent over a desk while writing something, his ass wiggling in the air to the rhythm of whatever was playing on his iPod.

           

“Ugh, stop being disgusting, Bas,” he said, continuing to work. He was never getting out of here at this rate.

Sebastian chuckled. “Just checking the new arrivals.” He laughed again when Kurt offered him an eye roll, and then leaned forward, pushing his elbows onto the desk Kurt was working on. “Anyway, I’ll have time to do that. I’m going out for a drink, are you almost done?”

Kurt pointed at the couple of unfinished hats on his desk. “I don’t think so,” he said. “And I’m going home anyway.”

“Aw, come on, Kurt, live a little.”

“If by living you mean watching you get drunk and hook up with a random stranger while drinking soda in some sticky bar, I think I’ll pass.”

 

Sebastian poked his cheek, and Kurt batted his hand away, annoyed.

 

“You could meet someone, too, you know? And–” Sebastian lifted a hand up in the air when Kurt opened his mouth, and before he had the chance to protest, he continued, “–before you tell me that you want romance and that it’s impossible what with your _condition_ –”

“Ugh, don’t call it a condition. It sounds like I have an STD.”

“Not with that invisible chastity belt you’ve strapped on.”

 

Kurt glared at him, and Sebastian lifted his second hand in a sign of apology almost immediately. They’d had this discussion before, about what they wanted and the way they went about it, and whenever they tried to convince the other to change his ways it only ended up in angry yelling. The thing they both agreed on was the fact that they couldn’t possibly hope to have a true relationship, not when Kurt was permanently stuck at twenty-one, and when Sebastian turned into a wolf once a month. It was the rest that caused trouble: Kurt’s desire to be alone and Sebastian’s to sleep with everything that moved.

 

“Fine,” said Sebastian, always the first to backtrack. “Be like that. But just so you know, those guys from _True Blood_ have lots of sex.”

“You didn’t just compare me to TV vampires.”

“ _Book_ vampires,” Sebastian said, a grin pulling at the sides of his mouth. “And one of them played by Alexander Skarsgård at that. I’d dig that comparison.”

“You would.” Kurt shook his head. “At least you didn’t go with _Twilight._ ”

“I was so disappointed to learn that you don’t actually sparkle in the light.”

Kurt did laugh at that, clear and free. He hated Sebastian half the time, especially how much he made him laugh. “Just go,” he said finally. “I’ll finish here and go home.”

Sebastian pouted his way, lip jutted out exaggeratedly. “It won’t be the same without your grumpy little face throwing snarky comments at people’s choice of clothing.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone to pass the time with.”

“Don’t be jealous, baby,” Sebastian said, a huge smile on his face. “I’ll still come home to you.”

Kurt threw a _bitch, please_ look at Sebastian, and kicked him under the table for good measure. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Sebastian replied, his eyes bright with mirth. “ _You can dance_ ,” Sebastian intoned then, voice soft. He moved towards Kurt, singing right next to his ear, breath warm. “ _Every dance with the guy who gives you the eye,”_ Sebastian’s voice soared. Before Kurt knew what was happening, Sebastian was pulling him to his feet.

“Sebastian! What are you–”

“ _Let him hold you tight._ ” Sebastian waggled his eyebrows at Kurt while pulling him close and guiding him into a clumsy dance. Kurt was forced to laugh, and let himself be manhandled. “ _You can smile every smile for the man who held your hand beneath the pale moonlight_.”

 

Sebastian spinned him, and Kurt went with it, his laughter not yet dead. Sebastian felt warm, and Kurt was always so cold that the closeness was entirely too tempting for him to reject.

 

 _“But don’t forget who’s taking you home and in whose arms you’re gonna be._ ”

 

Sebastian stopped, arms still around Kurt and eyes trained on his own. It was almost too much, Kurt thought, even as he didn’t manage to stop smiling.

 

“ _So darlin', save the last dance for me,_ ” finished Sebastian, voice softer now.

“You’re completely ridiculous,” Kurt said.

“And now you wound me, princess,” said Sebastian, putting a hand to his chest. “See if I ever serenade you again.”

 

Kurt laughed one last time, before stepping back and away from Sebastian. He felt immediately cold.

 

“Have fun,” he said.

“I will.”

 

-o-o-o-o-

 

 It was almost ten when Kurt arrived back home. He was tired, and his satchel felt heavy on his shoulder. Sometimes, he wished his vampirism resembled the kind of mythology some books used, and that he had energy, strength, or maybe even lacked the necessity to sleep. As it was, the only thing books seemed to get right was the thirst for blood. As for the rest, well, not so much. Kurt didn’t burn to ashes with the sun, even if it was mildly uncomfortable, he was cold all the time, he was stronger and faster than humans, but not by much, he liked garlic, didn’t turn his eyes at the sight of a cross, didn’t need an invitation to enter a house, and he most certainly didn´t sparkle. Ever.

As for the thirst itself… Kurt was living proof that survival without blood was actually possible. He felt weaker without it, definitely, but that was a better choice than killing innocents, a choice that made him a pariah among his own kind, but a choice nonetheless.

When Kurt walked into the apartment, he was surprised by a strong voice belting out a rather fantastic version of _Don’t rain on my parade._ Perched on top of the sofa, arms stretched out and face full of emotion, Rachel sang. It was so good that Kurt hated her a little. When she was finished with it, he clapped slowly.

 

“That was fantastic,” he admitted softly.

 

Rachel looked his way, surprised. Kurt wondered for a second if she had spent the past few months belting her heart out to people who couldn’t see her.

 

“Thank you,” she said, pushing her hair behind her shoulders in a gesture that Kurt was sure he was going to get used to. “I know. I was going to be a star.”

“Thank you would have been enough, sweetie.”

She huffed, but deflated quickly. While Kurt shut the door behind him, she sat down on the sofa and hugged her own legs. She was still wearing that same awful attire they had met her in.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just can’t leave, you know? I’ve tried, but I can’t go farther than that first step of the stairs outside.”

 

Kurt nodded while putting his satchel by the door. He took off his coat and scarf, but left his fingerless gloves on, and then he walked towards the sofa and sat down next to Rachel. She looked at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

 

“Where do you go when you… um, you know, _go?_ ”

“I don’t–I’m not really sure, and I don’t know if, and–ugh, I hate this. How much time was I gone?”

“Since last night,” Kurt answered.

“Oh, ok. It felt longer.”

“Right.” Kurt nodded, and then took a long breath and rubbed his hands together. “So, I’m really tired but I can’t go to bed this early. How do you feel about _The way we were?_ ”

“I always feel great about Barbra,” Rachel hastened to answer.

“Great. I think I’m going to like you, Rachel Berry.”

 

-o-o-o-o-

 

Sebastian got home at half past one to find Kurt’s eyes glued to a book. He was already clad in pajamas, looking much softer than he usually did in his layers of clothing, and curled like a small cat at the end of the couch.

 

“Isn’t it a little late, princess?”

“Bas!” Kurt exclaimed, scrambling out of his curled position and pushing his book somewhere in between himself and the sofa.

Sebastian laughed as he sat next to him, feeling suddenly heavy after the long night out. “You don’t need to hide your readings from me,” he said. “I know you’re obsessed with that terrible Fifty Shades trilogy.”

Kurt huffed, lifting his nose high up in the air. “I just like making fun of it.”

“Of course you do. But, if it’s BDSM you’re interested in, all you need to do is ask.” Sebastian sent him a wolfish grin, and Kurt just laughed at him.

“Don’t be a pig.” He poked Sebastian’s thigh with his sock covered toes, and took the book out from its hiding place. “And go take a shower, you smell of sex.”

“And that’s a _bad_ smell?”

 

Kurt simply glared at him, and honestly, if he got a penny for every time he did, Sebastian would be rich by now.

 

“Have you seen our ghostly tenant?”

“Yes, she’s lying down,” Kurt said. “Apparently she doesn’t sleep, but she likes to pretend. There was a long explanation for that. I think she’s a little crazy, but at least she appreciates good movies.”

Sebastian groaned. “Not another musical lover.”

“We’re not going to discuss your taste in movies, Bas,” Kurt said, opening the book again and searching for the page he’d been at. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t even qualify as a taste.”

 

At another time of the day Sebastian might have argued. After all, riling Kurt up was one of his favorite activities. It was late, though, and he was incredibly tired. There were still ten days to go to the full moon, but he was already starting to feel his bones complaining, almost as if they were getting ready for the torture that was his monthly transformation.

“So, hey, Kurt,” he said, suddenly anxious to get rid of each and every thought related to his curse. “How good is that sense of smell of yours, really? I know you can spot a werewolf a mile away, but what else can you do?”

Kurt looked at him from behind his book, lowering it before sighing and closing it one more time. He left it on the small table they had in front of the TV, and said, “I can show you.”

 

Sebastian was momentarily surprised, since Kurt was never too keen on sharing anything about himself. Not his past, and most certainly not his vampirism. The surprise didn’t end there, but was rather renewed when Kurt unfolded himself and crawled towards Sebastian’s end of the couch. His eyes were focused and bright in the dim light of the room, and his limbs looked suddenly spry and graceful. He looked every inch the predator. Sometimes, in between the banter, the clothes and the general bitchiness, Sebastian forgot exactly what Kurt was and how dangerous he could be.

Sebastian inhaled loudly when Kurt pressed his face to his neck, the tip of his nose lightly caressing his collarbone, and then climbing up to the back of his ear.

 

“You’ve been drinking gin tonight,” Kurt whispered then, right against the shell of his ear. “And you took a walk through some park before coming home. You also had sex with a bleached blonde.”

When Kurt moved back, it felt as if the air came back to Sebastian. He breathed slowly, and after a few moments managed to look back at Kurt. “Ok, right. That’s… yeah.”

 

Kurt went back to his side of the sofa, and grabbed his book again. Sebastian felt hot all over.

 

“I think I’ll go take that shower now,” he said.

 

-o-o-o-o-

 

A couple of days later, Sebastian entered the kitchen to find Rachel staring intently at an empty cup. This would have been weird, if only it wasn’t starting to become a common sight.

 

“No luck yet, ghost Barbra?” he wondered around a yawn.

“Shh,” Kurt admonished from where he was drinking his morning coffee. And really, he’d never get his head around the fact that vampires ate regular food. “Don’t break her concentration.”

 

Sebastian just rolled his eyes, happy to ignore them both in favor of making himself some breakfast. He was feeling particularly ravenous, and he wouldn’t be stopped by a ghost girl trying to find her mojo and be able to touch objects.

 

“Shouldn’t you be trying to, you know, _die_?” he asked, not looking at her but at the insides of the fridge. “I mean for real. Cross to the other side, or whatever.”

“Sebastian!” Kurt admonished harshly. The tone alone made him turn around to look at a nearly crying Rachel.

“Oh, come on, you’re not going to cry, are you?”

 

That seemed to be enough to send her out of the room in a flurry, ugly plaid skirt flying at her quick turn. When he looked at Kurt, he found a reproaching look in his light eyes.

 

“Really, Sebastian?” Kurt asked. The use of his full name was enough to know that Kurt was pissed. “A little sensitivity wouldn’t kill you.”

“Oh, great, so you’ve bonded with the poltergeist,” he mocked, raising his hands into the air. “I don’t remember anything in the contract about putting up with a ghost.”

“Really, you should–”

“What, encourage her to become a freaking horror movie cliché? She should be dead, really dead, not suffering in some middle plane where she can’t even touch a stupid cup!”

“And somehow you reminding her of that is going to help?” Kurt stood up, walking closer towards him. His body language was closed off and menacing. “You’ve been nothing but plain mean to her.”

“You know me,” Sebastian snorted. “It’s my best quality.”

“Honestly, Sebastian, I know the full moon is close and that–”

“Don’t fucking twist this around on me, Hummel!” he snapped. It was a curse, but it wasn’t uncontrollable, and Sebastian hated it when Kurt used it against him. “It has nothing to do with that.”

“Bas, please.”

 

Sebastian felt Kurt’s hand on his own, long fingers smooth and cold. It was only then that he realized that his own fingers were wrapped around Kurt’s arms, holding him in place and pressing hard. Had Kurt not been a vampire, he would have caused bruises. He let go almost immediately, taking a step back and trying to breath slowly.

 

“Bas–”

“I’m going out.”

“You don’t have to leave.”

“I–I kinda do,” Sebastian said, looking down at the floor instead of at Kurt. “I think I’ll go run. Yeah, that sounds good.”

 

-o-o-o-o-

 

Sebastian ran for an hour, fast and hard, too afraid to stop and think. Eventually, though, tiredness got him, and he slowed his pace and started walking. He’d made his way to Central Park, and found himself surrounded by trees, grass, and loud families spending their Saturday morning outside. He felt liberated after stretching his muscles, tired in the best of ways.

The days before the full moon were always bad, enough that Kurt mocked him for his PMS in an attempt to make light of it. Sebastian always found himself being angry at everything and everybody. He was also hornier and jumpier, and his impulses were much harder to control. He called it _the wolf_ , as if separating himself from his transformation made it easier. He knew, intellectually, that he wasn’t possessed, that there was no real difference between himself and the animal he became once a month, but he needed the division to survive.

He’d tried controlling it, once. He’d been seventeen years old, had been a werewolf for only three months, and had found that if he concentrated enough, he could stop the transformation. It took effort, and it hurt almost as much as turning did, but at least he could be human all the time. Except that controlling the wolf only made the human moodier, angrier, scarier. The month he’d spent without turning, he’d yelled at every person he knew, he’d gotten into three fights, and had nearly killed a boy during the last one. The memory of blood on his hands was never far from his mind.

Kurt always got angry when he called it a curse, or when he referred of himself as a monster. Sebastian knew he hated the thought that they were something other than human, but he could only think of this _thing_ he was as unnatural.

Sebastian had gotten good at dealing with it, though. He gave into his more basic instincts in any way he could, running for hours and fucking every stranger that caught his eye. It stopped his restlessness, and what was wrong with enjoying some exercise and a good fuck? Except, of course, that it never seemed to be enough.

This morning he’d lost it, and it wasn’t the first time. Usually it came out in the form of too rough sex, but sometimes the anger consumed him more easily. And Kurt. _God_ , Kurt. He brought out the worst in him. He always spent the days before the full moon in between wanting to rip him to pieces and wanting to fuck him against the nearest available surface. The other night, when he’d pressed his nose close to his neck, Sebastian had almost snapped. Today, he definitely had.

Sebastian walked back into the apartment with heavy steps. He was tired and his limbs hurt from the exercise and the closeness of the full moon, but he knew he needed to apologize before he could shower and sleep for the whole day. It was going to be like pulling teeth.

He found Rachel alone in the living room, looking at the TV despite the fact that it was turned off.

 

“Are you alone?” he asked.

“Kurt left to buy some juice,” she said, not looking at him. After a beat, she whispered, “I can’t turn the TV on.”

“Oh.” Sebastian grabbed the remote and turned it on. The room was suddenly filled with the sound of whatever show was on, and Rachel smiled a little.

“Thanks,” she said.

 

Sebastian considered leaving her to it for a moment, but the truth was that it seemed like she was going to be a permanent tenant, and he could hardly avoid her forever. Besides, if he didn’t apologize Kurt was going to kill him. With a heavy sigh, he sat next to her on the couch.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She looked at him then, narrowing her eyes. “Wow, that actually hurt you physically, didn’t it?”

“You have no idea, Casper.”

“Rachel,” she said, scowling his way. “My name is Rachel Berry.”

“How about ghost Barbra?” he offered.

She seemed to consider it for a second, and then shrugged. “That actually works for me.”

 

Sebastian fought a small laugh, and instead settled back on the couch. He was sweaty and sticky, and Kurt was going to throw a fit the moment he found him like that on the sofa, but he couldn’t bring himself to move just yet. God, but he was _tired._

After a few minutes of his eyes glossing over whatever was on the TV, Rachel began speaking again.

 

“Kurt told me about your… _problem._ ”

Sebastian flinched involuntarily. “Did he tell you about his?”

“Yes, of course,” she nodded. “He wouldn’t answer any questions, though. Like, why does he eat normal food? And does he sparkle? Because he goes out into the sun.”

Sebastian snorted, and soon the sound turned into a full laugh. “Don’t ask him that, he’ll throw a fit.”

“Well, he kept asking about me,” she said. “It’s only fair.”

“Yeah? And what’s your story, Barbra?”

 

She shook her head, looking back at the TV. There was something pained in her expression, and Sebastian felt suddenly sympathetic and truly sorry for whatever comment he’d made that morning and the last couple of days. Somehow, being a ghost seemed worse than craving blood or turning into a wolf once a month.

 

“I just,” she started. “I was going to be such a big star.”

 

Sebastian snorted. _God,_ this girl.

 

“Oh, hey, hey,” he said when she looked at her again, lifting both hands in front of him. Her eyes were shiny and huge, and she looked like a sad little lamb. “Please don’t cry. I’m terrible with crying people.”

 

She sniffled, looking down. No tears fell down her cheeks, though.

 

“Ok,” she said. “But I’m going to hug you now.”

Sebastian groaned. “Is that really necessary?”

“Yes.”

He groaned again, just to put emphasis on his annoyance. “Fine. But just so you know, I’m completely against it and it will never happen again. I _don’t_ hug. Specially people with boobs.”

 

-o-o-o-o-

 

            Kurt came home to Sebastian and Rachel seating in front of the TV and arguing over an episode of _Sex and The City_. Sebastian was freshly showered, and he could smell the soap all the way from the door, where the scent hit him strongly. Sometimes he really hated his heightened senses, and whoever had been stupid enough to say that werewolves smelled something other than delicious.

 

            “Come on, ghost girl,” Sebastian was saying. “He promised nothing, and the woman is just being needy and annoying. If she claims she can have meaningless sex, she needs to back it up.”

            “God, you’re _such_ a _guy_ ,” Rachel answered.

            “It didn’t take you too long to discover his true nature, then,” Kurt piped up. When he walked towards the shared sofa, he received a set of twin smiles for his troubles. It was sort of unnerving. “Make room for me,” he demanded.

 

            He sat on the space Rachel liberated next to her and in the middle of the sofa. Almost immediately she cuddled against him, leaning her head on his shoulder. On his other side, Sebastian squeezed his hand and mouthed _I’m sorry._ In that moment, everything seemed to be right in the world.

 


	3. Chapter 2

 

Waking up was unpleasant. The first thing Sebastian felt was cold air against his naked skin, and the rough quality of the ground under him. He groaned, moving a hand to his temple and trying to look up from where he was laying on his stomach. He felt disoriented and his head hurt like a bitch. Nothing like coming back from a transformation to start the day.

He turned around on the spot, laying on his back and spying the cloudy grey sky above him. It was going to rain soon; he could smell it in the air. He closed his eyes and massaged his temples softly, and it took him minutes to realize exactly where he was. He opened his eyes again and sat up in a panic, trying to ignore the pain the stretch of muscles was causing. He looked up one more time just to be sure, just to check that he wasn’t in a nightmare. He saw only the grey sky and mouthed a shaky _fuck, fuck, fuck._

It was then that he started looking around him, his movements sharp and panicky. He was in an alley, the one right outside the small space he’d rented to spend the nights of the full moon. He tried to breathe in slowly, but he couldn’t think properly. How the fuck had he gotten out last night? He’d made sure the door of the place was thick and strong enough to contain him in his wolf form, he’d fucking _made sure._

He felt the tears prickle at the corners of his eyes, and opened his mouth to breathe. He needed to get a grip, he needed to get up because he was naked in an alley in the middle of the city and he’d gotten out last night and oh God, what if he’d done something? He stood up fast, his legs complaining at the movement and a slightly dizzy feeling clouding his head for a second. With two steps, he pressed his hands against a brick wall and rested for just a second, willing his head to settle. Once he felt steadier, he walked inside the place that was supposed to contain him – some space that used to belong to a teenage garage band and that he’d rented after he’d met Kurt – and frantically searched for the backpack he’d left there the night before.

He found the backpack and pulled out a change of clothes and his cell phone, trying to stay away from wandering thoughts. He’d gotten out, yes, but he’d barely moved. Surely nothing had happened. He couldn’t afford to think otherwise, not when he was having a hard time breathing. He focused on that for a second, in and out slow and nice, in through his nose, out through his mouth. It didn’t work, and he still felt dizzy.

The thought of calling Kurt crossed his mind, but he dismissed it in a second flat. He couldn’t talk about this, not now.

He put on his clothes quickly, telling himself that he had to _stop_ the panic and pull himself together. He focused on the small details, buttoning his pants, pulling on his shirt, the pull of muscles, the softness of the fabric, and the smell of that flowery fabric softener Kurt liked so much.

He was in pain, as much as he always was after a transformation. His bones and muscles were complaining, and he could also feel the sharp pull of bruised skin on his chest. He lifted his shirt up and found claw marks somewhere near his chest and at his right hip, even going inside his pants. There was dry blood, and the wounds were red and deep. He’d been angry last night, then, and anger meant strength.

He crouched then, suddenly too overwhelmed to stay standing up. A sob wrenched his way out of his throat, and he covered his face with both hands. He breathed in short, quiet sobs, but he only allowed himself the luxury of that for a minute. He willed all of his feelings away, and stood up yet again. He walked outside determinately, but stopped by the door, catching sight of big claw marks etched in it, and of the destroyed lock. He reached out, pressed his human fingers to the claw-shaped marks and breathed in slowly.

Only then, did he notice the blood on his hands. He gasped, and told himself that that was normal, that there was always blood on his hands. He always hurt himself during these nights, probably out of anger at being locked down, so that blood had to be his own. It was dry and mostly under his nails, and it _had_ to be his own. He nodded once, twice, and then stepped back and away from the door.

He would have to find a new place, one that would hold him properly. Or maybe he would have to think of chains and other restraints. For now, though, all he could do was step outside into the cloudy morning. When he did, tears threatened to appear again, so he started to run.

He arrived home sweaty and panting. Everything seemed to hurt, from his head to his muscles and his skin, but he welcomed it, felt anchored by the constant physical remainder of his human body. It was easier for him to stop thinking when everything was aching.

“Kurt said you’ll be late for work,” is what Rachel welcomed him with. She wasn’t looking at him, busy as she seemed to be trying to pass the pages of Kurt’s latest issue of Vogue.

Sebastian refrained from grunting at her and said through clenched teeth, “I’m not feeling so good. I’m gonna go sleep.”

With that, he escaped towards the bathroom, ignoring Rachel’s yelled, “Everything ok?”

He closed the door behind him, and without a second thought fell to the floor on his knees. He was breathing hard, the noise of it invading the small space around him. He put his hands on the floor, and nearly crawled towards the toilet. He lifted the lid and puked, clutching his hands to his stomach. When he was done, he forced himself to breathe slowly one more time. The vomit had left a sour and foul aftertaste in his mouth, but he couldn’t find the strength to stand up and fetch some water.

He told himself that everything was ok, that nothing about this was strange. Everything was normal, the pain, the tiredness, his stomach being funny and his head dizzy, even the traces of blood in his hands.

“Everything’s normal,” he said to the empty space around him. “Everything is as normal as it gets.”

He nodded to himself, feeling like he’d been doing that all morning, and then fixed his mind on simple tasks. He drank some water, washed his hands almost clinically, and took a shower. He took care of his self-inflicted wounds, hissing softly at the pain, and when he was done, he found a pair of sweatpants and buried himself under his sheets. They smelled like the product Kurt liked, one that was a tad fresher than the one he used for his clothes, and something as simple as that helped him calm the panic that had only subsided enough to let him function without losing his breath.

Kurt was at work now, but he’d be home later. He’d be home, and he’d be worried because Sebastian hadn’t gotten out of bed all day, and just his presence would be enough to make Sebastian feel better. He focused on that idea, and closed his eyes.

Two minutes hadn’t passed before Rachel popped into the room, a neat new trick she had learnt after giving up on actually being able to touch doors.

“Are you feeling ok?” she asked. Sebastian felt the mattress dip next to him, and then Rachel’s hand on his shoulder.

He grunted.

“I don’t actually speak impolite grunting, you know? You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“Go away, Rachel,” he mumbled, burrowing even more inside his cocoon of blankets. She said nothing, but he felt the press of the back of her hand against his forehead. He grunted again and said, “You can’t feel heat, so stop pretending. You’re a fucking ghost, try to remember.”

“So it’s asshole mode today,” she said, taking her hand away. “Fine, be like that.” After a beat, she said, “Please imagine that I’m slamming the door on my way out.”

Despite himself, he chuckled just a little. He guessed having Rachel around the house wasn’t so bad either, even if he managed to piss her off almost once a day.

Now, if only he could manage to sleep and forget the panic of the morning, everything would be fine.

 

* * *

 

Kurt got home sometime after eight, tired and bitchy. The day had been long, but most of all it had been boring, mostly due to the lack of Sebastian whining and teasing while Kurt tried to do some actual work. He’d never confess to the feeling, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t indulge in a little hissy fit of his own.

It was warmer inside the apartment than outside, and Kurt sighed, relieved. December was almost here, and the city was already so cold that Kurt’s natural lack of warmth was almost unbearable. He was pretty sure he didn’t have enough coats to make him warm, not when he had no actual body heat to help the thick fabrics. But, thankfully, the apartment was warm.

He dropped his satchel on the floor and hanged his coat at the entrance. While he was loosening his scarf, Rachel popped right next to him.

“God, Rachel,” he said, after a loud gasp, “don’t just pop like that.”

“But I’m so good at it!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been practicing.” She smiled, proud like a five year old, and Kurt couldn’t help the surge of affection towards her. She’d been so frustrated, trying to touch and feel, that something as silly as appearing and disappearing seemed like a huge step. Towards what he couldn’t be sure, but definitely a step.

“Is Bas home?” he asked. “He didn’t go to work.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked up haughtily. What the hell had he done this time?

“He said he was tired and then he was an asshole.”

Kurt wanted to sigh, but refrained. If he didn’t know that Sebastian was actually quite fond of Rachel, he’d be able to muster some anger towards him. They seemed to argue like siblings, though, over anything and everything, sometimes even forgetting why they had started in the first place, and then they would make up just as easily.

 “The full moon makes him cranky,” Kurt said after a minute.

“Everything makes him cranky,” Rachel countered.

Kurt gave into that sigh after all, and then looked at Rachel, her arms still crossed over her chest. “Let me check on him, and then you can tell me about your day or we can watch a movie or something, ok?”

Rachel nodded, even while saying, “You’re too nice to him.”

“Don’t I know it.”

He found Sebastian laying on his back and staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open and hands clutching the edge of the sheet tightly. Kurt sat down on the edge of the bed, and was suddenly invaded by the smell of dry, fresh blood. He closed his eyes briefly while pressing his hands to his thighs. Sebastian always smelled like blood after a transformation. He always did and Kurt always managed to ignore it, no matter the small pounding somewhere in the back of his head. If he let that pounding win, he’d do something stupid, like bite Sebastian’s smooth, tanned, perfect neck.

His eyes still closed, Kurt licked his lips, and then willed himself to snap out of it.

When he opened his eyes again, feeling more grounded, Sebastian was still looking up, happy to ignore him. He looked tired, big, dark circles under his eyes being wide proof of that.

“Rachel said you were an asshole to her,” Kurt said.

Sebastian blinked, and then finally looked at him. He said nothing, though, and Kurt thought that a Sebastian in this kind of mood was always dangerous. For all that they had lived together for a while now, even silently acknowledged how much better they functioned when the other was around, communication wasn’t exactly their strong suit. If Sebastian was quiet and moody, he would stay quiet and moody for a while.

Kurt reached out anyway, pushing a strand of hair away from Sebastian’s forehead and then pressing his hand to the skin. Sebastian felt much too warm, almost burning against Kurt’s too cold skin. He stayed there for a second, eyes on Sebastian’s and fingers warming up. He moved his thumb in a soft caress, closing his eyes almost unconsciously. Just because he had gotten good at ignoring it, didn’t mean that the scent of blood wasn’t tantalizing. That coupled with the warmth of Sebastian’s skin was almost too much; would have definitely been too much if he’d been a recently turned vampire.

After what felt like hours but was probably no more than a minute, Kurt opened his eyes and moved his hand away, bringing it to his chest almost protectively. Sebastian’s breathing was shallow, and his eyes were half-closed.

 "You’re too warm,” Kurt said, his voice feeling scratchy and too low, “I’ll get you some aspirin and then you can try to sleep, ok?”

 Kurt didn’t wait for an answer and left the room.

 

* * *

 

“… I tried grabbing a mug, and I couldn’t,” Rachel was saying, later that night. She was sitting on the couch, her legs crossed and her arms waving wildly about her as she explained herself. “Then, I tried reading a magazine, but I couldn’t pass the pages,” she continued, “I also tried to watch some TV, and then tried to hug a cushion, and then tried to open a door, but I couldn’t. So then I sang _Don’t cry for me Argentina_ because at least _that_ I can do. And how was _your_ day?” she asked finally, looking at Kurt with a defeated glare.

“I sewed some ugly hats,” he deadpanned.

 They said nothing for a while, merely looking at each other dejectedly. Kurt was still somewhat stuck in Sebastian upstairs, silent and unsleeping, but he tried to shake himself from it for Rachel’s sake.

 “I don’t get it, though,” he said. “You can sit down, it’s not like you slide through the couch. I’ve also seen you lay down on a bed, so I don’t know why that’s any different from grabbing things. Maybe you have to stop trying so hard.”

“But trying hard is what I do,” she said almost immediately. “It’s like… I wanted to be a star, right? So I posted a video on MySpace every day, even if my stupid cheerleader classmates mocked me, because I _knew_ I was going to be a star. And it got me to Broadway, so screw you, Quinn Fabray with your perfect skin and blonde hair and teenage pregnancy.”

 Kurt blinked, stunned at the change in tone and demeanor. She had that crazy look about her now, and he could almost picture her taking over Broadway with nothing but talent and determination.

 “Sore spot?” he wondered.

“They still liked her more than me, you know? Even after the pregnancy, and even if she was crazy and mean she was still prom queen.”

Kurt reached out, pressed his hand to her shoulder softly. “Teenagers are idiots. Trust me, I’ve seen generations of them.”

She smiled at him, and gave a grateful squeeze to his hand. “I met Jesse in high school, though. He was the star of his high school glee club, and we sang together and we were soul mates from that moment.”

 Her expression turned dreamy at that, and Kurt thought back to their landlord, with his Danny Zuko mannerisms and his big dramatic words. Of course Rachel found the only guy in the universe that was an even bigger drama queen than she was.

Kurt smiled wistfully, though, thinking back to his own failed romance. Ironically enough, while Rachel’s had finished with death, his had started with it. Thoughts of Blaine suddenly consumed him, the hair, the smile, the sweetness… and the love, mostly, because he had loved him in a way that he didn’t think he’d ever love anyone else.

 “I wish I could see him,” Rachel whispered softly.

 That took Kurt out of his reverie. He looked at her, and when she reached for him, he took her hand.

 “I think maybe it’s him,” she said, “The reason I’m stuck here.”

Kurt turned his head sideways, thinking on that. “You think? Would it help if you saw him?”

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

“Tell you what,” Kurt started, “I’ll make up some lie about something being wrong in the apartment and get him to come. That way you can see him, see if something happens.”

“You will?” she squealed. Before Kurt could answer, she was already plastered to him with her arms wrapped around his neck. “You’re the best, Kurt.”

“Oh, I know.”

She laughed for a second, and after a beat she said, “You’re just trying to get rid of me, aren’t you?”

“What? No!” Kurt exclaimed. “I actually like you, Rachel Berry, random midnight singing and everything. You’re one of a kind.”

She smiled yet again, getting more comfortable inside Kurt’s embrace, until they were cuddling on one end of the couch. Then, she pouted, “I bet Sebastian can’t wait for me to go, though.”

“I know he can be an idiot sometimes, or, well, almost always, but he actually likes you, too. He just has a funny way of showing affection.”

“He yelled at me today when I was singing.”

Kurt sighed, and squeezed her tightly. “Why don’t you slap him sometime? Just for the dramatic effect.”

“Ooh, definitely.”

 

* * *

 

A couple of days later, Sebastian didn’t feel any better. Physically, he felt almost alright, his wounds having almost healed now thanks to the very supernatural powers that had gotten him in this mess in the first place. Emotionally, though, he was clouded by doubts. He kept looking at his hands, almost expecting the shadow of blood to reappear, and as much as he tried to shut those thoughts out he didn’t know how. It had been getting worse, the anger, the lack of control, and he was afraid that at some point the wolf would take over completely.

Something that didn’t help him stop thinking was his job. It was so mechanical and stupid that it allowed his mind to wander too much. So, he found something to do that stopped his thoughts, namely, New Guy (had he said Brad? Or Brett?) who was more than happy to get on his knees for him at the backstage bathrooms. It left him so loose and thoughtless that by the time he sat down next to Kurt and his ugly hats, he was smiling.

 “Almost done?” he asked.

Kurt kept sewing, deft hands fast and able. Without lifting his eyes from his work, he scrunched his nose. “Ugh, Bas, really? You smell like cheap cologne and come.”

Sebastian wiggled his eyebrows, pushing his arms against Kurt’s working table until Kurt was forced to stop and look at him. “I kinda love that you can smell sex on me, Kurt.” It came out darker than he’d thought, like there was real intent behind it instead of easy flirting.

Kurt half closed his eyes, his nose still wrinkled in distaste. “What’s up with you lately? You’re more careless than usual.”

“Nothing wrong with a little fun, Kurtsie.”

 Sebastian smiled, slowly. Kurt blinked, and his expression turned confused.

 “You’re really looking the wolf part right now, you know?”

Sebastian reacted to that by moving back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, well. Maybe I’m embracing my true nature.”

“You’re not actually a wolf, Bas. I know you get all _I’m a monster_ and whatnot, but you really shouldn’t give into–”

“Oh, fuck you, Kurt.”

 Kurt startled at that, and threw him a cautions look that turned into a glare in no time. Sebastian couldn’t care any less, though. He didn’t have the energy for one of Kurt’s speeches on their humanity and how awesome they were for trying to have a life that didn’t involve killing. For all Sebastian knew, he could have killed someone on the last full moon. He was angry. He was angry all the time these days, it seemed, and he honestly didn’t need Kurt’s sanctimonious attitude and naiveté right now.

 “I’m going for a drink,” Sebastian said. He stood up quickly, almost making his chair tumble down with the strength of his movement.

“I’m going with you,” Kurt said.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Kurt. You can go home and wallow in your celibacy all you want.” His tone was harsh and strong. He was doing it on purpose, trying to piss Kurt off, and he didn’t know if he wanted to be left alone or if he wanted a strong reaction. He was positive Kurt could take him in a fight, and a part of him was anxious to see it happen.

Harsh tone or not, Kurt simply put his work away in record time and repeated, “I’m going with you.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

 

* * *

 

Two hours later Sebastian was drunk and immersed in a sea of sweaty bodies. The music was thumping rhythmically, and just that was enough that his mind couldn’t drift anywhere that wasn’t here and now. He felt loose and free, tired in the nicest of ways. His limbs felt as heavy as his eyes, and he was pretty sure that as soon as he got an orgasm out of some willing body in this dance floor he’d manage to get a great night of peaceful sleeping.

He hadn’t been sleeping all that well lately, and he thought that was partly to blame for his crankiness. His mind was reeling all the time, all over the place, and his mood imitated that. Just this morning he’d been cheering when Rachel had managed to throw a pillow his way in the middle of a fit, but he had ended his day almost provoking Kurt – quiet, calm and bitchy Kurt – into a rage.

 “Bas! Bas!” he heard then. “Sebastian!” came again.

 Sebastian turned around, and spotted Kurt coming his way. His hair was flopping and his clothes were sticking to his skin, the humidity of the bar obviously affecting even his always cold body. He looked edible, so much of his skin covered that Sebastian couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to peel all of his layers away. By the time Kurt reached him, Sebastian had had a moment to wonder how terrible it would be to give into his impulses and touch Kurt all over. It seemed like a healthier impulse than wanting to anger him.

Kurt finally reached him, though, and by then Sebastian had cleared his mind from such thoughts.

 “Why don’t we go home, Bas?” Kurt said.

 His voice was barely audible over the music, though, so Sebastian pressed his hands to his hips and brought him closer. Kurt followed the movement, and grabbed at Sebastian’s arms to steady himself. This close, Sebastian could smell his shampoo and the tangy scent that screamed _vampire_ to his senses.

 “I’m staying,” Sebastian said, finally. “You go home, I’ll be ok.”

 Kurt frowned, doubtful. Sebastian hated him a little, because as much as he’d craved the idea of someone who would worry for him for a long time, sometimes Kurt could be a serious pain in the ass.

It took a while for Kurt to deflate, enough that Sebastian noticed their bodies moving together against the music. It was kind of disgusting how well they seemed to fit.

 “Don’t do anything stupid, Bas!” were Kurt’s parting words.

  _Oh, no,_ Sebastian thought, _I’ll just do someone stupid and go home to you._

* * *

 

In the end, Sebastian didn’t do one or the other. He spent his night wandering down Central Park, enjoying the scent of the trees and the cold night. It was calming, almost like a balm to his senses, which had been hyperaware lately. He hated the idea that maybe it was the wolf inside him that felt at ease surrounded by the less urban atmosphere the city provided.

He tried not to think, but he did anyway. He thought of his hands covered in blood, and of his necessity of pushing Kurt’s buttons, and of his all over the place emotions. The lack of control was maddening, and he desperately needed to find a way to get out of this funk. Walking around the trees seemed to help, so he did until it was almost five in the morning, when he found his way back home.

He went into the kitchen, craving some warm milk and some sleep. He desperately needed to sleep. In the kitchen, he found Rachel, perched on top of the table and _literally_ twiddling her thumbs.

 “Bored much, Casper?” he asked, lifting both eyebrows.

Her shoulders slumped, her hair falling over her face like a curtain and covering her eyes. “Nights are very long. I felt like singing, but I didn’t want to wake Kurt up.”

“Oh, you didn’t want to wake _Kurt_ up,” Sebastian said, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “When it’s me, though, you don’t care. I see how it is.” It was playful, and Sebastian was suddenly relieved that he could be something other than harsh.

“Well, he’s a lot nicer than _you_ ,” she accused, pulling her hair behind her ear and letting Sebastian see her eyes again. “Also, he was angry when he came home, what did you do?”

“He was angry?”

“Yes.” Rachel nodded. “He had that look, you know? The one he gets–”

“All tight lipped and prissy like he has a stick up his ass and he’ll bite you if you mention it?”

“Sebastian!” she exclaimed, but she was giggling. Sebastian smiled at her, and she conceded, “Yeah, that one.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to piss him off. It’s not my fault he wouldn’t stay and dance with me.”

“Ohh, there was dancing?” she squealed a little after that, joining her hands and bringing them to her face in a dreamy kind of posture. “I knew you were secretly crushing on each other… It’s so romantic. The vampire and the werewolf, meant to be enemies but secretly in love. It’s like gay _Twilight._ ”

Sebastian snorted, and then fully laughed, his shoulders shaking with it. “Easy there, little Barbra, or you’ll be writing bad fanfiction in no time.” After a bit, he added, “Besides, I don’t have a crush on Kurt.”

“Uh hu, keep telling yourself that. Of course you are the type that does that kind of thing.”

“What thing?”

“The whole I sleep around a lot but not with you because I actually care and I don’t want to take the risk and ruin what we have thing. And Kurt does the whole I’m closed up and deep because I’ve been hurt in the past and I don’t want to go through that again thing.” She nodded to herself, as if approving her own speech. “One day this will all explode in your faces in the form of kinky vampire werewolf sex.”

Sebastian turned his head a little to the side, appraising the girl before him. “You’re crazy,” he concluded. “And I’m going to bed before you start talking about Greek tragedies.”

“You tell yourself whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Sebastian grunted, suddenly throwing his arms up and stretching. “God, sleep,” he sighed. “I need some of that.”

“I promise not to sing if your promise to be nice to me for two full days.”

“Blackmail, Casper?” he wondered. “I can respect that. You got a deal.”

“Awesome.”

 Sebastian went to bed with an actual smile that night.

 

* * *

 

“… So Jesse’s coming tomorrow after work to–Sebastian? Are you listening to me?”

“Wha…” Sebastian mumbled, looking up at Kurt. He’d been drifting away, his mind completely blank, and the soft sound of Kurt’s voice had actually been sort of lulling him into a sleepy daze.

Kurt poked his arm, lips set in a thin line. “You’re so spacey today,” he said.

 Sebastian rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, a huge yawn suddenly overtaking him. He let the tiredness spread through him, even helped it by stretching his arms above his head. When he caught Kurt staring at the skin the rising hem of his t-shirt had freed, he smirked.

 “Like what you see, do ya?”

Kurt scoffed, looking away as a little kid would when being caught doing something wrong. “You need to get some sleep,” Kurt said, finally, straying away from the much more tantalizing subject that was Sebastian’s skin.

“I know,” Sebastian conceded, “It’s been evading me all week, though.”

 Of course, it evaded him because he kept thinking, his head turning and turning over events he couldn’t find the way to control. Whatever little sleep he actually managed to get was plagued by nightmares and confusing dreams, and he woke up from them feeling more tired than at the beginning. At this point, he was pretty convinced he was going to keel over out of pure exhaustion.

 “Anyway,” he said, shaking his head a little. There was no point in burdening Kurt with his lack of sleep, not when they’d probably end up having some kind of heartfelt conversation about blood on his hands and his monthly condition. “You think seeing the Jesse guy will help?” he asked finally, focusing back on the initial subject.

Kurt shrugged. He wasn’t looking at Sebastian now, but focusing on hanging some dresses properly in the racks. Sebastian was supposed to be carrying some props to the back rooms, but in his defense, Kurt had been the one to stop him on his way there for a short chat.

 “She thinks he has something to do with her being stuck,” Kurt explained. Surreptitiously, he looked at the watch perched on the wall; it was late, and they should be getting home anyway.

“I think she just wants to see him,” Sebastian said, “And if by any chance he sees her back, make some melodramatic scene that they can later write and turn into a play.”

“I hardly think Jesse will see her if he hasn’t already.”

“So why’s little Barbra torturing herself like that?” Sebastian wondered. “She should find herself some ghost booty and see if the dead can still orgasm.”

“Really, Bas? Some _ghost booty_?” Kurt gave him a sidelong glance, but Sebastian could tell he was at least a little amused.

“It’s what I’d do,” Sebastian answered.

Kurt just shook his head, turning his attention back to the dresses before him. He stepped back, surveying his job. “It’s not about that, you know that. She still loves him, death doesn’t change that.”

“Ah, yes, tru wuv.”

Kurt laughed, despite his very visible efforts not to do it. He smacked Sebastian lightly in the arm, and then let his fingers linger on the skin even while saying, “Don’t be a jerk, Bas.”

“Fine, I won’t be a jerk. I did promise her.”

“You did?” Kurt raised one single curious eyebrow.

“In exchange for her not singing in the middle of the night.”

“Ah, of course.” Kurt shook his head yet again, as if tired of dealing with childish minds. “Anyway, I’m done here, are you coming home?”

“Sure, let me put this away and we’ll walk together.”

Kurt smiled at him, and Sebastian didn’t imagine him looking a little pleased. “Great, I’ll wait for you.”

 Sebastian just smiled back.

 

* * *

 

“Do I look ok?”

 Kurt looked at Rachel, the same hideous outfit she always wore almost prompting him to say something along the lines of it being an unfortunate one to die in. He supposed it looked almost cute on her, if one ignored every fashion concept ever learned. It was very… _Rachel_ , though. Kurt could perfectly picture her in something similar walking down the hallways of her high school, her steps determined and her face serious. Kurt hated the stupid reindeer in her sweater, but he couldn’t deny that the whole thing suited her.

 “You know he won’t see you, right?” said Sebastian from his place of the couch. He’d been lounging there all afternoon, long limbs thrown everywhere and hands restless. “Also, there’s a reindeer in your sweater,” he pointed out.

Kurt glared at him, and then looked back at Rachel with a smile. “You look great, Rachel.”

“Oh,” piped up Sebastian, “so my popped collars are douchy and 90’s fratboy-ish, but the reindeer sweater is ok.”

“We’re not discussing your fashion choices, Bas,” Kurt answered, “It would take too much time and energy, and you won’t let me dress you properly anyway.”

“You can undress me properly.”

Kurt scoffed, but said nothing when he noticed Rachel sticking her tongue out at Sebastian and him returning the gesture. Honestly, they were like five year olds.

When the doorbell rang, Rachel gasped quietly.

 “He’s here,” she whispered, “Go on, get the door, get the door!”

 Kurt did as he was instructed, opening the door for Jesse. Or, for Jesse and guest, he guessed. Behind him, a tall brunette with a bitter expression and her arms crossed over her chest was staring at Kurt as if he was gum stuck on her shoe.

 “Hello…” Kurt said, and then composed himself and coughed a little. “Thank you for coming.” He motioned inside, stepping away to let them come in. “You could have just called a plumber for us, really.”

 They’d given some excuse about the pipes in the kitchen, Kurt couldn’t be sure. Sebastian had dictated most of the thing to him, and had taken care of there being an actual mishap in the kitchen. All Kurt had done had been made sure that Jesse came himself to take a look at it, rather than just send someone else.

 “I actually wanted to show the place to my fiancé, see if she’d like to move here sometime in the future.”

 Kurt froze, literally.

“I _told_ you,” the girl said, “that I don’t want to live in the apartment you bought with your dead girlfriend, Jesse.”

“Isabelle…” Kurt heard Rachel whisper. He turned around, leaving the door open as if he could make Jesse and his _fiancé_ disappear by willing them to go away.

 Jesse, of course, not having heard Rachel, not being able to see her, started talking over her second whisper.

 “And I told you that you shouldn’t feel threatened by that,” he said, “Rachel’s death was a tragedy that I will forever carry on my shoulders and that will, of course, enhance my dramatic performances, but I’m with you now, sweetie.”

“With her!?” This time, Rachel didn’t whisper, but screamed.

 Next to her, Sebastian, who had almost jumped from the sofa after Jesse had mentioned his fiancé, flinched at the tone.

 “I’ve been dead for four months, you… you… you bastard!” Rachel yelled. She was staring at Jesse, her face red and her eyes scrunched as if ready to cry, but Jesse was looking past her, at the nothingness he surely saw before him. “You’re going to marry her!? And bring her to our apartment and-and-and _enhance_ your performances?”

“So, the kitchen?” Jesse said, motioning towards Kurt after sending a wave Sebastian’s way.

 Kurt could barely answer, couldn’t bring himself to speak over Rachel’s screaming. But Jesse was just looking at him, a little confused probably because Kurt was so tense and looking at a spot that he thought was empty.

Kurt opened his mouth, but before he could find a way to keep up the charade, he gasped when he saw Rachel launch herself towards Jesse. She was still in a rage, red and angry and her face full of tears, but all she managed to do was go through Jesse, stumble and fall to the floor behind him.

 “Something the matter?” Jesse asked.

 Kurt did his best impression of a fish. Finally, Sebastian was the one to react. He was tense, and if Kurt didn’t know better, he would have guessed that he was going to throw a punch. Instead, he took a step forward.

 “Kurt’ll show you to the kitchen, if you don’t mind,” he said through clenched teeth, his tone strained, “I have some things to take care of.”

 With that, he walked around Jesse with fast, hard steps and picked up Rachel from the floor, easily lifting her into his arms. Kurt heard a soft protest from her, garbled between her now flowing tears, but still caught sight of her clutching at Sebastian’s shirt.

Jesse turned around, and if he happened to see Sebastian carrying something invisible out of the room, he didn’t say a thing.

 “Kitchen, then?” he repeated.

“You know what?” Kurt said. His own tone was tense, tenser than Sebastian’s had been, and he could feel anger curling low in his gut. “We shouldn’t have bothered you. We’ll call a plumber ourselves, get it fixed.”

“But–”

“No, really, you should go.”

 Jesse threw him a confused look, and the girl a boring one. Kurt could have ripped both their throats right then. Instead, he wrapped his hand around Jesse’s arm and moved him towards the door. Jesse yelped, and looked at him with obvious surprise at Kurt’s strength. Kurt squeezed even tighter, just to make a point, and nearly dragged Jesse outside.

 “Go. Really.”

“I-Fine-Yes, ok.”

 Kurt slammed the door behind them, and then clenched both fists hard and tried to calm down. When it didn’t work, he turned on his heels and walked towards the rooms, where Sebastian had carried Rachel.

 “Rachel?” he asked.

“She’s gone,” Sebastian told him. He found him leaning against a wall in the hallway. He looked defeated.

“Gone?”

“Vanished, puff, like the first day.”

Kurt said nothing, and only managed to lean on the wall opposite Sebastian. He was still tense, but it took very little time for his anger to deflate and his shoulders to relax. “Fuck,” he said.

“Yeah. Fucking great idea we had.”

 Kurt just nodded, and then impulsively leaned forward, curling his hands on Sebastian’s shirt when he found it. He pressed his forehead to Sebastian’s shoulder, leaning on him. Sebastian moved his arms up until his hands were resting softly on Kurt’s shoulders in something that wasn’t quite a hug. He was warm and smelled nice, and Kurt let those sensations ground him.

 “She’ll come back,” Kurt said, “We’ll fix it.”

“Yeah, we’ll fix it.”

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Kurt lay on his bed, eyes firmly set on the ceiling, unclosed. He was tired but fighting sleep, trying to make sense of that afternoon. _God,_ dead for four months and your boyfriend shows up with a fiancé. Rachel had seemed to know the girl, too, and Kurt got the funny feeling that Jesse hadn’t started seeing her exactly after Rachel’s death, but _while_ he was with Rachel.

Sometimes, relationships sucked.

He didn’t have a lot of experience to draw from, though. No matter how many years he’d spent on earth, he’d had one relationship, and one true love. He’d been the one to leave Blaine in the end, though, so he could hardly compare that to what Rachel must be feeling, wherever she was.

His musings where cut short by Sebastian walking into the room, his steps slow and his demeanor tired. Kurt would have been surprised if he hadn’t heard and smelled him even before he’d come into the room. He reached the bed and sat down heavily on the edge, resting his elbows on his knees and pressing his face against his hands.

 Kurt scooted closer to him and pressed his palm flat against his back. He was warm, always warm. “Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Sebastian sighed, his shoulders seeming to relax when Kurt curled his hand and moved it up and down his spine. “It’s been a bad week,” he said after a while, “I can’t even find it in me to mock your silk pajamas.”

“You love my silk pajamas,” Kurt countered, and when Sebastian said nothing, merely breathed slow and steady, he continued, “Wow, really? Not even how you’d love me better out of them?”

 Sebastian snickered softly, and Kurt smiled behind him.

 “You must be really tired,” Kurt said. Then, he moved back to his spot on the bed and patted the empty space next to him. “Come on, lie down.”

“Ok.” Sebastian went easily, laying down next to Kurt under the covers. “Just imagine me making some lewd comment about you inviting me into your bed.”

“I’ll do that.”

 They stayed silent for a while then, Sebastian’s soft breathing the only sound inside the room. His eyes were only half-lidded, though, as if fighting the tiredness, and Kurt could almost imagine the muted green of them.

 “You’re not even trying to sleep,” he whispered after a while, reaching out towards Sebastian and grabbing one of his hands. He squeezed a little before threading their fingers together.

Sebastian didn’t say anything for a minute, but when he did, his voice came out hoarse. “Do you think you could take me?”

“What?” Kurt asked, startled by the question.

“Do you think you could take me? As a wolf, I mean… in like, a fight.”

Kurt swallowed thickly. “I don’t-I don’t know. Maybe? I’ve never actually seen a werewolf as a wolf, you know? And I don’t drink blood, so I’m weaker but, I guess… Maybe?”

“How’s that working out for you? The blood thing?”

“It’s… ok, most of the time. Hard, sometimes.”

 Sebastian just made a soft sound of acknowledgment. They were speaking soft and low, and with the room being dark, too, it felt like the time for confessions. He could hardly tell Sebastian that most of his bloodlust was caused by him, though. It was just that with the amount of the time they spent together and the way Sebastian smelled, sometimes Kurt couldn’t fight the urge to focus on his pulse beating away on his neck. He’d heard say, back in the day, that werewolf blood was actually a bit of an aphrodisiac, completely different from the taste of humans. Santana had definitely had a penchant for it, that crazy bitch that someone had decided to turn God knows why.

 “But you’d try, right?” Sebastian said then, his voice still rough. “You wouldn’t let me hurt anybody.”

“I wouldn’t,” Kurt confirmed, squeezing his fingers around Sebastian’s.

“Good.”

 It took a while for Sebastian to fall sleep, but he finally did, his breathing slowing down along with his pulse. Kurt felt more relaxed himself when he did, even if he didn’t fall asleep himself.

He was worried for  Sebastian. He was worried that the werewolf thing was getting to be too much to handle. This week had been proof of it, with his mood changes and his lack of sleep, and Kurt just wished Sebastian would talk to him. He’d been thinking lately that what Sebastian needed, perhaps, was someone of his kind around him. He didn’t know much about werewolves – Santana had been the expert, after all – but he knew most of them moved around in packs, and maybe that was exactly what Sebastian needed.

Kurt, many years back, had made a choice. He’d spent a very long time surrounded by his own kind and then had decided to walk away, but Sebastian had never had that, since he’d never even seen the one that had turned him, probably because he’d left him for dead. Kurt wondered if a pack could show him control, could offer him the kind of comfort Kurt could only guess at. Sometimes, he thought about talking to Sebastian about this, but the truth was that a shade of selfishness didn’t let him do it.

Kurt had been afraid and alone for a very long time. When he’d been human, back in 1912, and had found himself looking at boys more than at girls, he’d surrounded himself with walls that had kept him very much alone. He’d heard the talks, whispers about troubled souls, and how the police had caught couples in sin. He’d also heard talks of some establishments in the big cities meant for men like him, but as it was, he’d only been a footman at some country house, young, naïve and scared of his secret getting out. He’d thought maybe his dad – good, old dad, and how he’d loved that man – had always known, somewhere inside him.

Kurt had resigned himself to be alone and live in fear of discovery, but then the talks of war had started. There were news from Europe, of British and French armies and lost lives, but it had all seemed so far away, so foreign to someone in his station, that he could hardly believe it when whispers of the States going to war, of drafting young men like himself had started. It was hard now to remember that kind of fear, but he knew he’d been scared to within an inch of his life.

Before he’d had time to think about it, though, he’d been turned, given a new life, a new purpose and a family. A family of predators that hadn’t judged him, and that had brought him to Blaine. And for many years, Kurt hadn’t been alone, but he’d still been afraid. Killing people, no matter the reason, had never been part of his plan, but of course, it was hard to act as more than an animal when the power of vampirism was offered. It had taken too long for him to be able to leave that life behind – to leave _Blaine_ behind – but in the end he had. He’d stopped being afraid, because he’d found control within his grasp, but he’d started feeling alone.

Life as a lone vampire had been… sad. Of course he could try and relate to people, but in the end he was nothing more than a lost soul looking at humanity without being a true part of it. Which was the exact reason why he and Sebastian had latched onto one another and hadn’t let go, not even at the beginning when they hadn’t even liked each other all that much. And if Sebastian found a sense of family and comfort with someone of his kind, then Kurt would be drifting alone yet again.

Just thinking about it made Kurt squeeze Sebastian’s fingers yet again. For as long as Sebastian wanted, Kurt would hold on.

 

* * *

 

“You know, I’m starting to really doubt the whole part where you two are not in love with each other.”

 When he heard her voice, Kurt looked around until he spotted Rachel sitting by the window, morning sun creating the impression of a halo around her. Without a second thought, Kurt reached out a hand towards her.

 “Rachel!” he exclaimed, “We were worried.”

 She smiled a little sadly at him, hugging herself.

 “Are you al–” Kurt started to ask, but when he looked at Rachel’s face, closed off and sporting a shaky smile, he stopped short of asking his question. Of course she wasn’t alright, what a stupid question to ask.

“Let’s not talk about it,” she said, taking one step forward and drawing up a determined expression, “Not today, ok?” her voice softened at the end, and Kurt could do nothing but nod and motion for her to join him on the bed.

She did almost immediately, jumping on his free side and cuddling against his chest.

 “Do you do this a lot?” she asked, pointing at a still sleeping Sebastian. “Cuddle?”

 Kurt looked down at Sebastian, his face resting against Kurt’s stomach and his arms wrapped around his waist. Under the covers, his legs were almost trapping Kurt’s, even if his feet were hanging of the bed.

 “It’s not my fault he’s an overgrown dog,” Kurt said, even as his hand found its way to Sebastian’s hair to stroke it lightly.

“Shut up,” Sebastian said suddenly, his eyes still closed. “I don’t cuddle.” He made no attempt to move though, even throwing an arm around Rachel’s waist and hugging her closer to both of them.

 Rachel snickered, and her smile felt real. They couldn’t fix her yet, Kurt thought, but at least they could give her this. She was just like them, after all, looking into the world from the outside, unable to be a part of it, clinging desperately to them for affection. Looking at both of them, Kurt couldn’t help feeling a surge of protectiveness.

“So,” started Sebastian, “are we insulting him yet? ‘Cause I think he has funny hair and no ass. You need some ghost love, Rach, you can totally do better with the undead, I’m sure.”

“What?” Rachel asked, her eyes wide when looking down at Sebastian.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him, he tends to have conversations with himself inside his head and then expects everybody else to understand what he’s talking about.”

“Hey!” said Sebastian. “Rude.”

“ _You’re_ rude,” Rachel countered, “Jesse has a great ass.”

Sebastian snorted. “I think you don’t know what a great ass looks like. You should check Kurt out sometime.”

“Well, of course, but that’s like comparing every star to the sun.”

Sebastian snickered, and Kurt smacked his shoulder half heartedly. “Oh my God, you two,” he said. “Stop getting along, it’s creepy.”

“But we were saying nice things,” Sebastian whined, and finally opened his eyes and looked up at him, a pout painting his lips. When Kurt looked at Rachel, she was wearing a similar expression. Kurt just sighed, and thought that as far as family went, he could have done worse.

 

* * *

 

Later that morning, Sebastian came downstairs dressed for a run, and sat down on the couch to tie his shoes.

 “What are you looking for?” he asked, not looking back at Kurt, who was rummaging for something on his very extensive DVD collection.

“ _The Notebook,_ ” he said, and Sebastian was happy that he couldn’t see his grimace. “Rachel needs a good cry, and I’m giving her an excuse.”

“Ok, well,” Sebastian said, standing up once his shoes were secured, “I’m going for a run, maybe I’ll catch the end with you boring, sad people that cry over Ryan Gosling.”

“You’re in a good mood,” Kurt noted, a little smile curving his pink lips.

Sebastian nodded, smiling right back. “Finally had a good night’s sleep.”

 They smiled at each other silently for a second, as long as it  took Sebastian to start feeling stupid for thinking that Kurt looked charming when staring at him like that.

“Well, I’m going,” he said, looking at the door and then walking its way. “Don’t cry too much without me, princess!” was his goodbye.

 Sebastian _was_ in a good mood that morning. His problems weren’t completely solved, but a good night of dreamless sleep had done wonders for him. He refused to think that it had anything to do with sharing a bed with Kurt, choosing to blame it all on his tiredness.

Despite the sleep, he could use a good run, too, so he took off on his usual route, his feet heavy and fast on the ground. It was easier to think this morning, with the cold air around him. He had a little less than a month to figure out a new way to spend the full moons, since his last idea had caused so much trouble for him. He was averse to chains and cages, but maybe he should consider the idea of them after all. Not this morning, though, this morning he was just going to run and then he was going to go home to his prissy vampire and his wacky ghost.

He ran for nearly an hour, and when he felt tired enough, he walked slowly back home. He stopped by the bakery Kurt liked to get some cheesecake to go on his way back, and enjoyed the easy stroll with the treat carefully nestled in his hand. Kurt loved the damn thing so much that it made Sebastian question his vampire status. He was smiling to himself when he caught a whiff of a strange smell. It wasn’t unpleasant, and even felt kind of familiar, but it did seem to attack his senses and mute every other scent around. He stopped in his tracks, curious, and searched for its origins. What he found was a guy with a shock of blonde hair staring right back at him. When their eyes crossed, he understood exactly why the smell had seemed so familiar, and just as it dawned on him, the guy started to run.

 “Hey, wait!” he yelled at him, dropping the cheesecake and running after him as fast as he could.

 He followed him through a couple of streets, the bright yellow of his hair easily giving him away, as well as his scent. He was fast, though, and after no more than five minutes, Sebastian had lost him, scent and all.

 “Fuck!” he yelled out loud. That was the first werewolf he’d ever seen other than himself, and he’d just lost him.

 

 

 

 


End file.
